A Governess for the Brooding Duke(21)

“I understand, Your Grace.”



“On Sundays, you shall attend church with myself and the children. The four of us shall ride in the carriage together and shall sit in the front pew, as is the custom of my family.”



“Yes, Your Grace,” Georgette said, already worrying about the awkward conversation that would take place inside the carriage when she was alone with him and the children.



“And for the rest of Sunday, you may do as you wish.”



“Thank you, Your Grace,” Georgette said but was still thinking about church and wondering quite how far away the nearest church was. If only they were in London, then she could be assured that there would be a church within minutes of their current location.



“I think that will be all for now, Miss Darrington. It is likely that I shall not see you between now and church on Sunday, so if you have any questions, I suggest you ask them before we conclude.” For all the world, he seemed entirely keen to dismiss her, and Georgette could not help feeling just a little insulted.



“I have no questions, Your Grace,” Georgette said truthfully.



“Then I rather think that our business is concluded,” he said and suddenly rose from his seat and strode around the desk towards her.



Once he was standing and within feet of her, Georgette realized quite how tall and broad he was and almost gasped. Before he was anywhere near close, he seemed almost to tower over her. She could see that he was wearing immaculately fitting black breeches, and his black knee boots shone to perfection. All in all, she thought she had never seen a man so well-dressed without any hint of ostentation. It was simply that his tailoring struck her as being second to none.



As he continued towards her, Georgette could not help thinking that his very stature was most unlike any aristocrat she had ever met. He did not fall into the category of the customary slim and rather angular aristocrat with the sort of aquiline features which tended to give them the appearance of delicately picking their way through life most disdainfully.



In truth, with a little growth on his chin and different clothing, he would easily pass for a large and rather robust farmhand. For a moment, Georgette thought that she might laugh and held her breath to stave it off.



The Duke finally drew to a halt in front of her and looked down as she looked up.



“Just one more thing, Miss Darrington,” he said as Georgette fought the urge to take a step backward away from him. She was not sure if he intended to be intimidating, or if it was simply his size and stature which made him so at that moment. However, it did not stop her wanting to leave.



“Yes, Your Grace?” she said, somewhat proud to hear that her voice remained steady despite his close proximity.



“Perhaps as you go about your day-to-day business of educating the children and training them in various accomplishments, you might give some thought to doing what you can to eradicate their Welsh intonations.”



“Your Grace?” Georgette knew that she had sounded surprised and wished for all the world that she had not.



“The children were born and raised in North Wales thus far and have acquired the accent of the region. However, they are not returning to Wales and shall, instead, remain here in the heart of the Duchy of Draycott. If they are to be raised in such a home, I would expect them to develop the requisite accent.”



Without having to ask, Georgette knew, as she was bound to, that he expected them to speak with the clipped and precise tones common among the upper-class English, herself included. Having heard the beautiful, lyrical voices of the little girls, Georgette could not help thinking it a dreadful shame. However, she thought she ought not to openly fight against the thing with her new employer on her first day.



“Yes, Your Grace,” she said, entirely hiding her disquiet.



“Well, I shall leave you to your duties,” he said and stepped around her to open the door.



When he pulled it back wide to allow her to step through, Georgette could not help thinking it a most curious thing. Given his demeanor and the way he had dismissed the housekeeper, she could not begin to imagine that he customarily opened doors for his staff in such a gentlemanly fashion. In truth, the entire act seemed greatly at odds with the rest of him and, for a moment, Georgette was not truly sure that he meant for her to leave the room first. She hesitated for a moment and, when he looked at her little quizzically, she thanked him, nodded politely, and disappeared through the doorway.



As she walked smartly back towards the schoolroom, she heard the study door close softly behind her.





Chapter 8



When Georgette approached the door of the schoolroom once more and reached out to open it, she surreptitiously looked back along the corridor to see if the Duke himself had left his room. Since it appeared that he had not, she could only conclude that he had chosen to act like a gentleman before her and open the door, and she found herself just a little confused by it all.